The Jam Jar Drabbles
by mynameisbob
Summary: This is a collection of drabbles about the Inkworld. They are not supposed to make any sense, so don't worry if you are confused. I wrote this to keep boredom at bay, and to entertain you.


**There Are Jam Jars in My Closet!**

A/N: This was inspired by two lines in Inkheart that had to do with jam jars. I will be adding on to this whenever I feel like it, so don't expect an update soon. This is not in chronological order.

Disclaimer: I have never written a book in my life, so obviously I cannot own Inkheart. I also have to give credit to whoever thought up "There are monsters in my closet" because that is where I got the title from.

The light pinks and golden glows of a glorious sunset appeared over the silhouettes of a great many trees. Nearby, a village was just waking up, and a large castle could be seen in the distance. On the side of the road, a small temporary village of tents had been set up. The people living in these makeshift homes, who called themselves the Motley Folk, were already awake and getting ready for the day's shows. There were fire-eaters, tightrope walkers, and a number of other different entertainers.

Roxane was sitting on a mossy log, eating a piece of bread for breakfast. Behind her, the tent she shared with her husband Dustfinger shook slightly as Dustfinger himself stepped out of the tent flap. He casually flicked back his long, ginger hair as he meandered over to his wife. Roxane turned around.

"Hello Dustfinger. Care to join me for some bread?"

"I'm not hungry," replied Dustfinger. "Do you want some jam?"

Roxane stared at him as he pulled a jam jar out of his backpack.

"Where in Lombrica did you get that?" questioned Roxane.

"From the closet. Here, have some." Dustfinger handed her the jar. Roxane opened it with some struggle. It made a satisfying pop.

"Do you happen to have a butter knife?"

"No, but you can use my dagger." He handed her a small, lethal looking object. Roxane took it and examined its sharp blade before sticking it into the jam jar. She started to spread the red jam onto her bread, but she stopped and looked up at Dustfinger.

"Did you just say you got this from the closet?" Roxane asked incredulously.

"Yes. Why do you ask?" Dustfinger asked curiously.

"Because we don't have a closet."

"What are you talking about? Of course we do!"

"Dustfinger, we live in a tent. Tents don't have closets."

"Well this one does."

"No it doesn't!"

"Yes it does! Where else would I have gotten the jam jar?"

"I don't know. Look, I'll show you we have no closet! Come here."

Roxane stood up, still carrying her piece of bread with a few splotches of red jam. Dustfinger followed and they both disappeared into the tent, leaving the mossy log behind.

Dust motes swirled in the sunlight streaming from the open tent flap. Dustfinger's marten, Gwin, chattered angrily, expressing his disappointment in the sudden sunlight, but the two humans paid him no heed, for neither spoke martenish. The light brown canvass made the air heavy and stifling, but some light leaked through the close weave. There was a large pile of what looked like rags, with two human shaped indents in the center. There was another, small pile of colorful fabric, obviously clothing. Next to the clothing, a loaf of bread was nestled in a piece of cloth. In the tent flap, there was another, much smaller, flap. That was Gwin's door.

The couple glanced at the corner where Gwin had been sleeping, before Roxane spoke up.

"See? No closet. I told you so!" Roxane was about to turn around and go back to the mossy log, when Dustfinger spoke, as if thinking out loud.

"Maybe it was someone else's closet."

"Someone else's closet? Dustfinger, did someone clonk you on the head recently?"

"No… Why?"

"Never mind. Whose closet was it then?"

"I don't remember. I think I got it ages ago."

"So you stole it," Roxane said matter-of-factly.

"No! More like, borrowed it without the owner's permission, and for an unidentifiably long time."

"So you stole it," Roxane repeated.

"Well… Yes."

"Oh, alright then." Roxane ducked under the tent flap and went back over to the abandoned mossy log. She picked up the jam jar and finished her breakfast. As she was brushing the crumbs off her hands and colorful skirt, Dustfinger came out with a piece of bread for himself.

"I thought you weren't hungry," she said with a smirk.

"I wasn't. That whole escapade with the closet made me hungry. Can I have the jam?"

Roxane handed Dustfinger the jam jar and the dagger, and he spread some jam on his bread.

"I wonder where I found this. It's strawberry, my favorite."

Far away, in another small village, a man was getting his breakfast ready. He opened his dark mahogany closet and sifted around among the large collection of jars.

"Wait, what happened to my strawberry jam?"

A/N: Review! Whether you like it or not!


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